Acquired Brilliance
by CreamoCrop
Summary: Long before he was born, or even before his parents met, at the time when people were still convinced that his father's aloofness and anti-social behavior is just part of the teenage phase, it had already been speculated that Addison Hooper Holmes or whatever name and gender, the child of Sherlock Holmes will have, is not going to be like most babies. (Parent!lock prompt fills)


**A/N This is series of parent!lock prompt fills from tumblr. Each fills different prompts but revolves around the same story arc of the Hooper Holmes household. **

**This is the first part of a prompt from potemkinx who asked for little Holmes/Hooper takes his/her first step, but towards Billy the skull. I tweaked it a bit and I hope that's alright.**

**Please enjoy.**

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**Chapter 1. Where's Billy? part 1**

Long before he was born, or even before his parents met, at the time when people were still convinced that his father's aloofness and anti-social behavior is just part of the teenage phase, it had already been speculated that Addison Hooper Holmes or whatever name and gender, the child of Sherlock Holmes will have, is not going to be like most babies.

Holmes babies never really did anything close to what is defined as normal. Mycroft was already doing maths at the age of 1 and Sherlock was already performing concertos on his mini violin long before he learned how to properly hold a fork. This only built the expectations for the future Holmes geniuses.

That was, until long-time family friends, neighbors, and university classmates declared that the _obnoxious git_ also known as Sherlock Holmes will never find a partner patient enough to deal with him, much more bear his _devil spawns._

Unfortunately for those people but fortunately for little Adi, balance of probabilities allowed the existence of such a woman as Molly Hooper.

Thanks to her, 8 month old Adi is now happily sitting in the middle of the floor of 221 B noisily banging two blocks while his father watches him with hawk-like focus from his perch on their couch.

"He has it. I know he has it."

The consulting detective's steel aqua eyes followed the movement of his miniature carbon copy as Adi dropped blocks A and H in favor of D and O and repeating the process of making the loudest possible noise that could be produced by two plushie blocks.

"Sherlock, love, all he does all day is sit, crawl, eat, poop, pee and play and that information comes from a _very _reliable source, aka. _me_. Trust me, he can't possibly have it."

Upon hearing the voice of his _milk bag_, also known as mother, Adi again dropped the two blocks and picked another block and turned his head and hand around in a jerky movement resembling an offering. However upon seeing the underside of the particular toy, he withdrew his hand and decided instead on banging the stuffed square against the floor.

"Believe me Molly, he has it."

Still resolute with his suspicion, Sherlock's eyes remained glued on his son as he moved from his sitting position from the couch and down to the floor in front of his firstborn.

Sensing the movement, Adi abandoned his temporary source of fancy and looked up at the _lifting machine _known as his father.

"Addison, I need you to give me back my skull."

Sherlock's sober expression was met by equal seriousness or at least as serious as a smaller, rounder and chubbier face could express. No matter what Molly says, Sherlock knows that his son is more advanced than other children. Despite his wife's strong objections that Addison couldn't possibly reach, transport and hide his skull, Sherlock has trust in his genes.

Addison is a Holmes.

Holmes are capable of anything.

Even an eight month old boy who can't walk yet.

_Especially _an eight month old _Holmes_ boy who can't walk yet.

His chest puffed a little at the thought that he had produced such a tiny being.

For a moment, the father and son duo was locked in a staring contest where both sides was measuring the reaction of the other. Even if Adi's vocabulary isn't fully developed yet, Sherlock knows that his son has advanced comprehension and so he fully believes that Adi understands his request, hence the child's momentary stolidity.

Any moment now, Adi will be giving up the location of his skull.

Soon however, his son's face morphed into a gleeful expression as the child giggled and picked up two of his blocks which he offered to his father.

Seeing the dichotomy on her flat floor, easily identifiable as her husband and son, Molly walked towards the pair, watching as her husband dejectedly accepted their son's offerings. With a smile on her face, she knelt beside her two boys. Crouching down to kiss her little boy's chubby cheek she took a moment to appreciate the mop of black curly hair, cupid bow lips, and aquamarine eyes that Addison had inherited from his father.

Genius or not, Addison Hooper Holmes, is perfect.

Turning to her husband, she raffled his own mop of curly hair before draping her arms around his shoulders and kissing his sharp cheeks.

"Small steps love. I'm sure soon enough, he will really be hiding your skull, but maybe not today. Why don't you ask Mrs. Hudson first."

"I already asked her and I already searched her usual places." Sherlock rolled the two soft blocks in between his fingers. "But you are right, he will be causing mischief soon enough, he is a Holmes after all."

With a soft smile, the consulting detective crouched down and kissed his son's forehead before putting down the two blocks and returning to the couch to curl up and enter his mind palace in search of possible culprits and the places where they hid his skull.

Soon the two adults became preoccupied – Sherlock with his mind palace and Molly, with picking up Adi and bringing him to the kitchen for his afternoon mashed fruits.

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From his hiding place, Billy the skull had the perfect vantage point in witnessing the curious happenings within the Holmes household. How he got to his position and who placed him there is a mystery that he is willing to share, but until he is discovered, he will keep it a secret alongside the others that he had picked up during his days of exile. For now however, he is treated to the sight of his owner laying down still as a statue in the couch (the usual), his mistress busy tending to the baby (the usual as well) and the mess of blocks at the floor of the flat.

He wonders however, why in a house full of intelligent people, he is the only one seeing what he is seeing.

_**A d I Ho L m eS**_


End file.
